


Redolence

by sachi_sama



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 13:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachi_sama/pseuds/sachi_sama
Summary: "Jake smells like he always has, like everything Dirk loves in the world and can't have, and Jake's nose is freezing as it presses into Dirk's neck."





	Redolence

**Author's Note:**

> "Difficult not to feel  
> a little bit disappointed and passed over,  
> when I've looked right through to see you  
> naked but oblivious,  
> and you don't see me." -- ["3 Libras"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoqXDPbivFs) by A Perfect Circle

Dirk remembers a time he loved his apartment. It's spacious for the price, and it isn't run down, which is exactly what Dirk needs in a place. He has various projects strewn all over his space, but he's usually pretty good about navigating through it. Most importantly, it's quiet. Or it _used_ to be.

People are always coming and going through the building, but Dirk has managed to learn who most of his neighbors are. Like him, they keep to themselves, but Dirk receives plenty of friendly nods in the elevator and in the hallways. It wasn't a surprise when his old neighbor across the hall moved out, but Dirk was sad to see her go. She used to bake extra cookies and other treats to give him. He didn't have an interest in meeting the new person who moved in a couple of months ago, but now he wishes he'd introduced himself.

His new neighbor is a pain in the ass.

Dirk groans and pauses his programming as the smoke alarm next door starts blaring _again_. It's the third time just this week, and Dirk thinks his neighbor has no idea how to cook and is probably a hazard to themselves. Huffing, he slides away from his workbench and walks across the hallway, knocking on the door.

“Yo, has anyone ever told you the smoke alarm isn't a timer? You're supposed to take the food out of the oven _before_ it burns,” Dirk says crossly, folding his arms and wondering if his mysterious neighbor will open the door and greet him.

“Apologies!” The voice is frazzled and Dirk can hear movements inside. “I'm a horrid cook! It'll be off in just a tick, mate! If I could just—ah! There we are!”

The beeping stops. Dirk rolls his eyes and goes back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. It's fairly late and his eyes hurt from staring at a damn screen for hours on end. He decides to make a quick snack and call it a night.

The first thing Dirk notices when he wakes up is muffled shouting, followed by banging and crashing. He sits up in his dark room, running a hand through his destroyed hair. He was sleeping _hard_ , and he's pissed off that something woke him up. He listens for a moment and flinches as the shouting grows louder, and it sounds a bit like someone is being thrown bodily against a wall. He swings his legs off the bed and hurriedly pulls on some sweatpants, opening his door into the hallway in time to see a pissed off behemoth of a man pass him and storm towards the elevator, cursing vehemently at all the heads of concerned tenants peeking out of their apartments, woken by the commotion. Dirk watches him go for a moment and decides to check on his neighbor, whose door is wide open.

He knocks on the open door before walking in, observing a small framed man smoking by the open window, his body battered and bloody. Dirk can't see his face, but he's willing to bet it isn't a pretty sight.

“Shit dude, you okay?” Dirk asks.

“Spiffy,” the man says, flicking some ashes right onto the floor.

“Do you want me to call someone? The police maybe?” Dirk frowns when the guy laughs at him.

“No, I don't think that's necessary. My ex already left. He won't be back.” The guy finally turns to face Dirk, and Dirk feels the world fall out from under his feet. “Sorry for disturbing you again. I'm sure I gave you quite the fright— _ah_.” He stops talking and squints at Dirk, his green eyes just as beautiful as Dirk remembers.

“ _Jake?”_ Dirk asks, his mouth dropping open. Jake gapes at him and finally gives him a shaky grin, some blood dribbling from his split lip when he does.

“Small world, eh?” Jake asks bitterly, tossing the still lit cigarette onto the floor. “I've often wondered when I'd see any of our old gang again, but I was hoping for a much sunnier meeting.”

Dirk whirls around towards the elevator the muscular prick stomped into, his fists curled. He starts to go towards it when a hand grabs his bare shoulder, stopping him.

“There's no need, Dirk. He's gone. This was the only way for this to go,” Jake says softly. Dirk turns to him, his heart breaking when he sees just how horrible Jake truly looks, even beyond his injuries. He's always been smaller, but he looks emaciated now, and like he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in years.

“What... Jake, what the _fuck?_ ” Dirk finally manages.

“It's late,” Jake says. “You were sleeping, I'm sure. I'm fine now.”

“Like fuck I'm going back over there right now,” Dirk says, unwilling even to let Jake move away from him. He hasn't seen Jake in years, hasn't even heard his name since the end of high school, the end of all things good in Dirk's life. Jake disappeared days before graduation, never to be seen or heard from again.

“Dirk,” Jake murmurs, shaking his head. “Really, this isn't the time for all of this...”

“Sure, fine, whatever. No time, got it. Come on.” Dirk grabs Jake's hand, pulling him out into the hall, closing Jake's door behind him. He leads Jake inside his own place, dragging him to the bathroom where he wets a rag and hands it to Jake, watching him concernedly.

“You're ridiculous,” Jake mumbles, wincing as he cleans the gashes on his face.

“Makes two of us then, huh?” Dirk narrows his eyes, unable to help it, his brain full of so many questions it wants to burst. “I'd ask how you've been, but I'm guessing it's been shitty based on how you look.”

“You think I look shitty?” Jake frowns and pauses his ministrations, looking up at Dirk. “Well. I suppose things have been better. Not for a long while now, but at one point.” He sighs and stares down at the floor.

“You're staying here tonight,” Dirk says with finality. “If that douche goes back over there to kill you, I'd like to be able to know I at least made an effort to help. You can go later.” Dirk's concern is being replaced with the bitter anger he's had since Jake left without explanation all those years ago.

“It'd have been better if he killed me,” Jake says simply, grinning up at Dirk like it's a joke between them. “I admit I wanted him to. A part of me. That's why I set things up as I did.”

“You're drunk,” Dirk says, smelling the alcohol on Jake's breath. “You used to be such a stickler for health and now you're drinking and smoking and apparently hooking up with real winners who use you like a punching bag. I'm sure Jade would be proud.”

Dirk hates himself for it as soon as it's out of his mouth, but when Jake flinches as if he's been hit again, Dirk feels his anger die entirely, dig its own grave, and release swan songs of apologies. It was a low blow, especially to say to someone who looks like Jake does now.

“Gramma died at the right time then, don't you think?” Jake asks in a small voice, tears in his eyes, and Dirk doesn't think, _can't_ think, only wants to help. He steps forward, pulling Jake to him, listening to the small gasp Jake gives before his arms wrap around Dirk in turn. Jake smells like he always has, like everything Dirk loves in the world and can't have, and Jake's nose is freezing as it presses into Dirk's neck.

“I'm so sorry,” Jake sobs, his voice muffled, and Dirk shushes him, not wanting to go into any of this now. He leads Jake to his bed and helps him get in, covering him up and hovering over him awkwardly, not knowing what to do here. Jake wraps around a pillow and cries into it, and Dirk wants to crawl in behind him, to hold him like he used to, but Jake left. Jake hurt him, hurt Roxy, hurt Jane. Dirk shuts the light out and goes to his couch, flopping onto it, wondering if he'll get any sleep at all.

The next thing Dirk notices is daylight, as well as some light shuffling coming from behind him. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and sits up to see Jake wearing one of his shirts, holding a rag and scrubbing at the counter top. He freezes as soon as he notices Dirk's eyes on him, and he smiles sheepishly. In the light of day, he somehow looks even worse.

“I just—well. I thought it'd be awfully rude of me to leave before you woke up and...tidying up a bit seemed like a nice way to thank you for your help.” Jake rubs at his neck, and Dirk wants to tell him to stop smiling because it's stretching out his busted lip, but Dirk doesn't say anything.

Instantly, Jake gets noticeably restless.

“I woke you up, didn't I? I woke you up last night, too. I'm sorry. I don't sleep much these days and... I should've just slipped out without disturbing you.” He looks down at the shirt he's wearing. “Mine was ruined so I threw it in the bin. I'll...give yours back, I promise. Though you'd probably like me to wash it first, heh.”

It dwarfs Jake almost comically, though it's really not funny at all when Dirk remembers Jake wasn't always so tiny. Short and thin, yes, but now he just looks gaunt and fragile, barely fits into the frame Dirk remembers.

“Keep it,” Dirk finds himself saying. He doesn't mean it to sound as short as it does, but Jake's face falls nonetheless. He nods grimly and lets go of the rag he's been holding onto.

“Right then. I'll... I'll do just that.” He goes to the door and hurriedly wrenches it open, and doesn't even turn around as he adds a quick “you know where to find me.”

Dirk finds himself alone, and he sighs, falling back onto the couch cushions before he decides it's for the birds and gets up to shuffle towards his bed instead. He tries to ignore the fact that his sheets smell like Jake, but he fails miserably, and when he sleeps at last he dreams of the way things used to be, when everything was fine and Jake didn't look like he's seen death around every corner he's come across.

It takes Dirk a little while to contact Jane and Roxy about Jake. They'd all been inseparable throughout school, often frequenting each other's houses. They'd been devastated when Jade died and even more so when Jake disappeared, and it was unspoken between them all not to mention anything about the English family, since it was still an open wound.

Dirk is on speakerphone with Roxy, Jane in the background on Roxy's end when he finally says something.

“Jake is my neighbor,” he blurts, tactful as ever. There's a pause on the other end.

“ _Jakey?”_ Roxy's voice is a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“ _The neighbor who always keeps you up?”_ Jane's voice is closer to the phone now. _“That_ does _sound like Jake.”_

“He doesn't seem like Jake anymore,” Dirk says. “He got the shit beat out of him by some guy he was—seeing. He's like a ghost now.”

“ _When was this?”_ Roxy's back now, her voice shaking.

“Bout a week ago,” Dirk replies.

“ _A_ week?! _Dirk, god! Is he still there? Have you seen him since?”_

“No. I don't know what the fuck to say to him. I'm sure he feels the same way about me.”

Jane and Roxy make plans to come over soon, as they have a few “choice words for Jake English” according to Jane, and Dirk regrets mentioning Jake's presence in the apartment building, but some nights it's all he can think about, the fact that Jake is across the hallway, alone and fragile, probably smoking and barely eating or sleeping.

Dirk is up late working on some coding one night when he hears raised voices across the hallway again, and his blood runs cold. Without thinking he grabs a shitty gimmick samurai sword Dave sent him and crosses the hall to Jake's door, barging in without knocking.

The burly guy is there again, and he glares daggers at Dirk, and Jake is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, looking tired, but otherwise alright. He smiles pleasantly at Dirk.

“Hello there. Sorry for another disruption. Caliborn was just leaving,” he says, gesturing to the muscly dude like he's nothing more than a mosquito.

The guy, Caliborn snarls down at Dirk before heading towards the door.

“Have fun with him. He's a fucking slut,” he spits before slamming the door loudly enough that it echoes around them.

“In his defense,” Jake says softly, “I _did_ cheat on him. It wasn't really for anything other than to get rid of him.”

“Jake,” Dirk says, his eyes closing as his brows furrow in frustration. He just...wants to pick Jake up and _shake_ him. Shake him hard until Jake is who he used to be.

“But in _my_ defense, I'd already tried breaking up with him. He didn't take it well.”

Jake hops off the counter and moves to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He looks at Dirk and snorts.

“You brought a _sword_?”

“There...wasn't really time for rationality,” Dirk defends. Jake laughs, and it sounds the same as it used to.

“I appreciate the hustle. I'm fine. He came for his things and he won't be back.”

“Maybe change the locks?” Dirk offers.

“Maybe,” Jake says flippantly.

Dirk has so many questions. He can't think of what to ask first, or how.

“He didn't hurt you?” he asks at last.

“Not this time,” Jake says.

“You—since when do you...”

“Like men?” Jake hazards. “Quite a while, I reckon. Not like my taste accounts for much.” He fishes out another cigarette and starts to move towards his window. Dirk catches sight of an ashtray filled to the brim with cigarette butts, and knows his assumption about Jake chain-smoking was pretty spot-on.

“Jake,” Dirk begins again, trying to choose his words carefully despite his anger. Jake looks like he's a few harsh words from breaking and Dirk's never truly wanted to hurt him, even if Jake has hurt Dirk more than he'll ever know. “What's going on? Where'd you _go?_ ”

“It's a rather long story, “ Jake says, not bothering to look away from the window. The bruises on his face have healed to an ugly, yellowish color, but his eyes are still all wrong in a way that has nothing to do with physical injuries.

“Don't you owe me that much?” Dirk asks bitterly before he can stop himself. Jake smiles.

“I suppose I do. I owe you quite a few things. Seems like I'll be a disappointment to you yet again, because I don't feel up to hashing all of this yet.” Jake finally looks over at Dirk again.

“You'll lose your security deposit, smoking in here,” Dirk blurts.

“Oh, fuck the deposit,” Jake huffs. Dirk grins in spite of himself.

They encounter each other more often afterwards, though Dirk isn't hopeful enough to think Jake plans these things. A few times Dirk has come back home to pass Jake in the hallway, and they exchange pleasantries. The smoke alarm blares less often, and Dirk still knows Jake well enough to figure Jake just unhooked the damn thing rather than learn to cook, though it's possible Jake was also setting it off so frequently by smoking inside.

After a week of not seeing so much as a glance of Jake, Dirk starts to grow a little concerned, but before he can plan any accidental meetings, Jane and Roxy are at his doorstep, Tupperware containers of food in hand.

“Which one does he live in?” Jane asks, her jaw set.

“Uh,” Dirk says.

“Just tell us, or we'll start knockin',” Roxy warns, and Dirk just points across the hall. The girls both march over and start bombarding the door with knocks until Jake answers, his eyes wide and a...cooking pot in his hands?

“Oh,” he says softly. “I thought... Erm. I wasn't expecting anything pleasant, based on those knocks. Apologies.”

“You'd better do a lot more than apologize,” Jane says angrily, but then Jake opens the door entirely and gives them all a gander at his small, sickly frame. The circles under his eyes are practically purple and his eyes are duller than last time Dirk saw him, but still Jake smiles and motions inside. Roxy sobs and tackles him, almost knocking him down. Jake just holds her, and Dirk is pretty sure he's crying too.

Jake was always a crybaby.

Jane starts heating up the food in Jake's microwave, which is filthy. It's clear Jake microwaves most of his meals, which he admits range from Hot Pockets to cans of soup, yet he still manages to burn half of what he makes.

Once they're seated for dinner, the girls start bombarding Jake with questions. He's only picking at the food, not looking at any of them.

“I just...” He swallows and then shakes his head. “I wanted to disappear. I never imagined you'd all find me.”

“I thought you were _dead_ ,” Jane spits, and Jake winces. “I told myself that was the only way you'd go all these years without so much an email. Yet here you are, alive and—not well. But still, you're _alive_.”

“I am,” Jake admits in a soft voice, and Dirk's heart clenches, hearing the words Jake _doesn't_ say, which sound a lot like 'despite my best efforts'.

“Gramma died,” Jake says. “We were all graduating and I just... I didn't have a school to go to afterwards. All of you did. I thought, best case scenario, I'd end up living with one of you and being a freeloader. I wasn't about to ruin any of your lives.”

“Jade left you money,” Jane says, her blue eyes like ice. “I know she did.”

“She did,” Jake agrees. “Enough to leave, but not much else. Gramma was a genius, you know. She would've been well off if not for me. She inherited me through my mom's will and had to cut her studies short. She didn't have much money.”

“My brother,” Dirk says, staring Jake down across the table. “He has more money than he knows what to do with. We would've—“

“Yes, I'm aware,” Jake snaps. “I didn't want your bloody charity, especially when I knew you'd never give it to me and _leave_ , Dirk. You would've stayed with me and thrown your future away. Or worse, brought me with you, and I'd just bring you down like I did Gramma.”

“Where is this _coming_ from?” Roxy asks, her eyes still wet. She hasn't said a word since they sat down. “Jade didn't... She didn't _think_ that. None of us did. None of us knew _you_ did!”

“Yes, well, it's safe to say we all didn't know each other as well as we thought,” Jake says acidly, finally looking up. He stands abruptly, rattling the dishes still piled with food he's barely touched. “I need a moment.”

He moves across the room to the balcony door and exits without even putting on a coat. Dirk can see him lighting a cigarette through the window, and he sighs softly.

“What's _wrong_ with him?” Roxy asks, and Dirk knows she doesn't mean it cruelly. Her eyes are wide with concern, and she's looking expectantly at Dirk.

“How am I supposed to know?” he asks defensively.

“Oh, please,” Jane scoffs. “You know Jake better than anyone.”

“Maybe I did before,” Dirk says, “but I don't know him anymore. I don't know what to say or do. I'm just as lost as you guys here.”

“At least go make sure he's okay,” Roxy says, ignoring the baleful look Jane shoots her. “He's more used to you than us and...he shouldn't be alone. At least take him a damn coat.”

Sighing again, Dirk travels to the balcony, grabbing his own coat on the way. Once outside he drapes it over Jake's shoulders, and Jake flinches as it snaps him out of whatever self-deprecating thoughts he was festering in.

“They mean well,” Dirk says, crossing his arms and thanking his past self for putting on his most comfortable and warm sweater today. It's freezing outside, and Dirk's breath is fogging in the air almost as much as Jake's cigarette smoke.

“Don't tell me what they mean,” Jake mumbles. “I know them, too. I'm not just meeting them.”

“Look, okay, whatever _this_ is, they have the right to be mad. They—“

“I never asked for them to show up!” Jake snaps, whirling on Dirk. The fire is back in his eyes, and he looks more beautiful and _pissed_ than Dirk's ever seen him. “I left and I bungled up all our relationships, I get it, but damn it, I never asked for any of you to come here! I never asked for forgiveness! I never crawled up to any of you, on my hands and knees, begging you to dig into your hearts and forgive my faults and remind me of all I ever did wrong!”

Dirk admits Jake was definitely ambushed tonight, and as angry as he is at Jake, it really wasn't fair to do this to him.

“I didn't plan it,” he says. “They just showed up. I...told them you were next door because, well...they thought you were dead, Jake. We all did, for a while. They needed the closure, at least. And even if they're mad, they love you. They're trying to understand. And...that goes double for me.”

The implications hang in the air between them. Jake rolls his eyes, ignoring them.

Like always.

“Did you know Gramma kept a journal?” Jake asks, changing the subject.

“Most scientists do.”

“Not a scientific journal. A personal one. I found it when she died and I was going through her things.” Jake flicks some ashes away. “I was having a hard time of things, you know. Missing her. Wondering what the hell I was going to do next. She wrote about me.”

“She loved you,” Dirk says, unsure of where this is going.

“She thought I was worthless,” Jake says. “She wrote about my rubbish grades, my lack of college acceptance letters, her _concerns_ that I was relying far too much on _you_ to figure out my life for me.”

Dirk doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“And I knew all those things,” Jake continues. His lips tremble, not just from the cold. “I knew she had to have those types of concerns. But...then she got sick. And her entries were less and less, few and far between when she wrote about regrets. Regrets her research and work got cut short. Regrets she inherited me and I took up all her time.”

“Jake...”

“And I was doing the same thing to you. You would've let me, Dirk. Wherever you went, you would've carried me with you. Just like she was fucking worried about.”

“So you just left. Without a word.”

“There was nothing to say.”

Dirk glares at him, wanting so badly to scream at Jake until he _hears him_ , listens whether he wants to or not, and also to punch him.

“And still, there's nothing to say,” Jake murmurs, looking down at the city below. “You've all been fine without me.”

“Like fuck, Jake,” Dirk hisses. “We _mourned_ you. We— _I—_ missed you so fuckin' much. And then I finally see you again to find out you've just given up on your life? You let dudes push you around and use you and you look like _shit_ , like you died along with Jade.”

“Maybe I should have.” Jake laughs humorlessly.

Dirk grabs him by the shoulders and takes note of the way Jake flinches again, like he hasn't known a kind touch in years. Dirk thinks of the bodies who have had Jake in the way he never has, who have used Jake and thrown him over things, _into_ things, just to have their way with him before leaving him alone. Dirk thinks of Jade's words in Jake's mind, making him think he never deserved more than that.

Dirk thinks of how even now, he loves Jake more than he's ever loved anything, and how he would rip himself into pieces to make Jake whole again.

“Things can change. You aren't _dead_. You... _must_ be doing something right, okay? You live in this building, which isn't cheap. So you at least have a job, right?”

Jake snorts. “I work in a gas station. Caliborn made good money, which is why I moved here with him. Funny how he's the one who left, but I think he's hoping I'll get evicted.”

“So...all your money is going to rent.”

“Basically. At least I get discounts on cigarettes, so there's a silver lining.”

Dirk moves his hands from Jake's shoulders and pulls him into a hug instead. Jake doesn't hug back, but he leans bodily against Dirk, which is almost as good.

“Hot pockets aren't a healthy dinner, even if they're cheap. So come eat what Jane cooked before I force feed you,” Dirk mumbles into Jake's wild hair.

“Kinky,” Jake comments, but he follows when Dirk turns to go back inside.

The rest of the meal is more civil, and Jake noticeably relaxes when no one asks him personal questions anymore. Jake used to be pretty self-involved, or at least wanted them all to think he was somewhat of a confident person. None of them are under that assumption anymore, and Dirk has been kicking himself for not noticing sooner how little Jake seems to think of his own life.

Roxy regales them with stories about work. She's an editor, which always sounded boring to Dirk, but nothing involving Roxy is ever boring. After a few of her stories and a few glasses of wine, Jane warms up enough to speak to Jake without glaring at him. She's an accountant, and one day she still plans to open up her own bakery.

“Dad was right about the accounting degree though,” she says breezily. “I can just handle my own books later on.”

“She handles mine when I do business on my own,” Dirk informs Jake. All of them have had a bit too much to drink, but Dirk is closer to being wasted than he remembers being in a long time. He keeps leaning against Jake, speaking into his ear, inhaling his scent when he can.

“I saw your various gadgets strewn around your place. I assumed you made robots, like you always wanted,” Jake says.

“You assumed _right_ , Jake fuckin' English,” Dirk slurs, and Roxy laughs while Jane takes Dirk's wine glass from him. “Lots of machines and lots of computer programs.”

“Like you always wanted.” Jake smiles. “I'm so happy your life is what you dreamed. All of you. You're all so accomplished.”

Dirk wants to say his life isn't what he wanted, because Jake looks so sad and thin and breakable, and the life Dirk wanted involved Jake being there with him for everything, happy and healthy. Jane interrupts before he can voice this.

“I really hate to be a party pooper, but we _do_ have work in the morning, Rox,” she says, nudging Roxy, who is smiling sadly at Dirk across the table.

“Yeah. Yeah, we didn't mean to stay so long. It's just been so good to see you, Jakey,” Roxy says.

They all stand, and they make plans to have dinner soon. Jane is speaking softly with Jake when Roxy makes her way over to Dirk.

“Oh, Di-Stri. Look at you. You're so drunk,” she says fondly.

“I don't usually drink. Damn. How much did I have?”

“Not much at all, you lightweight.” She lets him lean on her, which is nice because then his brain doesn't have to focus on standing up straight.

“He looks better after tonight,” Dirk says, motioning to Jake. “I'm glad we did this. I mean, you guys scared the fuck out of him, but I think this was...good.”

“I'm worried about you,” Roxy says softly, and Dirk looks down at her confusedly because why worry about _him_ when Jake is over there, clearly a walking disaster?

“When Jakey left...you took it hardest. Which was understandable, Dirk but...if he leaves again, I don't want you to be broken like you were then. Promise me you'll keep on your toes. When you're sober, that is,” she amends when he starts to wobble.

“I'm _fine_ , Roxy. I learned my lesson back then.”

“ _Did_ you? Because the way you look at him says you still love him.”

Dirk stills because he never mentioned to anyone how he felt about Jake, but he should've known Roxy and Jane knew. They always understood him without him having to say much. Roxy hugs him, standing on her toes to better reach him. She kisses his cheek.

“Take care of yourself,” she says to him before she goes to say goodbye to Jake.

When they leave, Dirk realizes he's alone with Jake in Jake's apartment, and Dirk is drunk off his ass. He should go home. Should go home and sleep and not have any regrets in the morning.

“Jesus, Jane left a hurricane of food in my kitchen,” Jake grumbles, bustling around to put things up. “She has plans to fatten me up, which just sounds devious to me.”

“I don't have the life I want,” Dirk blurts, startling Jake into turning to face him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Before, when you said you were happy for us for living how we want? I don't. I don't live how I want. I don't _have_ what I want,” Dirk says, moving closer to Jake as he speaks. Jake smiles confusedly.

“Well, I've never known you to _not_ just take what you want.” Jake chuckles and starts to clean again. “You'll figure it out. You're a genius after all.”

“I wanted you,” Dirk says, and everything seems to get really quiet afterwards, like the aftermath of a loud explosion. Dirk can hear his own blood rushing in his ears.

“Dirk,” Jake sighs, his eyes closed. “You're drunk.”

“I _wanted_ you. I— Fuck, Jake! I loved you so fuckin' much. And I thought you just...were straight or whatever since you spouted that 'no homo' bullshit like it was never gonna go out of style but _now_ I regret not tellin' you sooner.” Dirk sways on his feet. “You have these _jerks_ who treat you like shit and I...I could show you...”

“Dirk, please,” Jake says. “I can't hear this.”

“You never want to hear it. You can say now that you don't want me, and I'll go. Just give me an _answer_ , Jake, cause this is torture.” Somehow he's ended up in front of Jake, who has to hold him up, lest he faceplant.

“I don't want to torture you...” Jake whispers, his eyes so fucking sad. Dirk dips down and presses his lips to Jake's, just a brush, and Jake's breath sighs out, his hands clenching in Dirk's shirt. It's like a dam breaking between them, and then Dirk's mouth is back on Jake's, heavy and hungry, kissing deep and probing because Jake _lets_ him, opens for him and gives where Dirk pushes. Dirk's hands thread through Jake's hair, and he pushes until Jake's back is against the refrigerator, and then Dirk kisses him harder.

“Dirk...” Jake whines into their kiss. He gasps at Dirk's hands trail down to his ass, where they knead and squeeze roughly. “Dirk...!”

“I love you,” Dirk whispers between them, pulling back to look into Jake's eyes. “I can't stand not sayin' it anymore. I'd give you _anything_ , Jake...”

Jake shakes his head, his eyes full of tears. “No... Dirk you can't fix this, okay? I can't let you try. I won't let you give up anything for me. I'm not worth it! This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.”

“Wait...” Dirk looks down at him. “You knew...? You knew I loved you?”

“Of course I did. I'm not an idiot.” Jake's words are defensive, but he's still crying, and he looks so guilty, Dirk feels his anger rising.

“And you just left? This whole time, you knew? Do you know what you _did_ to me when you left?”

“I wasn't going to stay and watch you find out you're too good for me,” Jake says, and Dirk's arms drop to his sides limply.

“You broke my heart. And I at least thought...you didn't know you were doin' it,” Dirk slurs. “You just didn't care?”

“Of course I cared! You—you're a _genius_ , Dirk! Was I supposed to let you settle for me? Bring you down like I bring down everything? I couldn't _do_ that to you!”

“Right so you ruined your life _for_ me? That makes me feel so much better.”

Jake's lips are still red and wet from Dirk's attentions, and even now, Dirk thinks Jake is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“You're drunk,” Jake says again. “You don't mean any of this.”

“Would you _stop_ decidin' what I do and don't mean?! Fuck you, okay, you don't seem to know one thing about me if you think this is what I wanted. This is all _fucked_ and you're the one who did it.”

“Dirk...”

“No, whatever, I'm _drunk_ , so I'll go. Leave you alone, like you want.” He stumbles blindly from the apartment, slamming the door behind him in his fury.

Jake doesn't follow him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Those poor neighbors never get to sleep well. 
> 
> Went to go see APC in concert a little while ago and somehow I got REALLY inspired by the song listed above. Give it a listen.
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


End file.
